


Life Support (Post 3X10)

by Paletalewriter



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Healing, M/M, Malec, Post 3x10, Shadowhunters - Freeform, alec lightwood - Freeform, loss of magic, magnus bane - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 10:01:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17785313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paletalewriter/pseuds/Paletalewriter
Summary: This short story is an imagining of Magnus and Alec in the days following season 3 episode 10. Please read and enjoy.





	Life Support (Post 3X10)

Magnus’s shoes make a hollow sound on the stone floor as he paces the hall outside the infirmary. Even after Izzy’s many requests that he sit down, he’s been unable to keep still since Cat disappeared into Alec’s hospital room. It had taken everything in Magnus not to follow her, but he’d wanted to give her her space. Not to mention he hadn’t stopped shaking since blasting Jace with his father’s magic.

The deal was clean cut. No room for wiggle room or error on either parts, Asmodeus made sure of that. He’d been allowed to hold Asmodeus magic in his palms, let it warm him to the core, nearly burning him through. Carry it just long enough to get back to New York, pouring every last drop into Jace, effectively breaking the prison his mind was trapped in.

As the blast had left his fingertips, it didn’t feel right. Not as it usually did. With expels of magic, large as they might be, it always felt like the same. Like a rope, coiled around his soul, knit into his being, pulled taught as if it might break. It never faltered, and it hurt like hell when it was strained beyond its natural measure. But it always felt the same.

This was different. As magic had bled from his veins, it did not feel like rope at all, let alone one tied to him in any form. It was more like stings made of silk. Slipping through his fingers and breaking where he tried to hold them. Each ounce of magic used belonging to someone else. Each shred of it ripped from him as soon as it was let loose. And when he came to the end of it, there was nothing left.

A hollow space where something precious used to dwell. An empty cavern of ache and blood and bone, and nothing else.

His knees nearly buckle, and his eyes blur and his veins burn dry of any magic that might have been. But there is none. Not from his father. Not from himself. A numb feeling of hopelessness shrouds his mind and plunges him into the icy dark.

He’d known the cost. An emptiness he’d never before felt. Betrayed and beaten by his own flesh and blood. Using his heart against him in the most cruel way.

All these thoughts play through his mind as he takes in the scene in front of him. The most horrifying sight, branding him with a second wave of grief and loss. Alec on the ground, an arrow buried in his chest.

No. No. Not like this. Not after everything. I can’t lose you too.

He rushed to him, hands that used to be so capable, strong, and healing now flutter like clipped wings against his love’s wounds, desperate to help in a way that he is no longer able.

He hears the desperation in Jace’s voice as he begs him to help Alec, to fix him. The break in his heart aching as he states numbly, that he can’t. He can’t. His magic is gone, and the hopelessness drowns him as he’s left while Jace leaves in search of Clary. His hands are wet and warm with Alec’s blood, his love falling in and out of consciousness. It’s an image that rattles him to the core. One he’s sure will be burnt to his eyelids and wake him up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat for years to come.

“Hey,” Magnus hears his own voice, rough and croaking and unfamiliar to his ears. “Hey, stay with me. Okay.” The panic rises like bile in his throat and he can’t breathe. His hands shake as he fumbles in his pocket for his phone. His thumb smears blood on the screen as he moves in what feels like slow motion. Alec’s weak fingers search out Magnus’s free hand, lacing them together best he can from the unnatural angle.

“Magnus,” Alec sounds scared. Quiet, and surprisingly calm, but frightened. It twists Magnus’s guts and makes him nauseous.

“I know, I know,” Magnus’s shaking fingers finally find who he’s searching for in the digital list of contacts, tapping frantically on the name, putting the phone to his ear.

“The pain,” Alec whispers. It’s desperate and begging and it breaks Magnus’s heart.

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand why Magnus isn’t healing him. Isn’t taking the pain away. Alec tugs at Magnus’s quivering hand, urging him to help. To do what he does and make the pain go away.

Tears are falling from Magnus’s eyes and onto Alec’s chest, his ringing ears hardly detect the voice that has picked up on the other end of the phone.

“Magnus? What’s going on. Are you alright?”

Magnus opens his mouth, his voice caught in his throat and his mind buzzing with shock that sits like a boulder on his chest, and all he can see is Alec trying to keep his eyes open.

“Cat--” He chokes, voice thick and he can taste blood. “I need you.”

And that’s when the explosion shook the ground. The windows in the building quaked and quivered. Magnus’s ears ringing and Alec twists in pain, as they are both showered in ash.

“Magnus.”

Magnus stops his pacing at the gentle sound of Caterina’s voice. A hand on his arm causes him to jump and withdraw, though it’s only Isabelle, pulling him out of his foggy thoughts. His eyes swivel around the room.

Luke, Maryse, Izzy, Cat.

Her eyes are sad, but not tragic. It gives Magnus hope to see her expression, tired as it is, holding a fraction of relief.

“He’s…” Magnus starts but is unable to continue. Voice tight from lack of use in the last few hours. Luckily, Cat doesn’t need anything more to understand his need for reassurance.

“He’s going to be fine. He’s going to hurt for awhile, and I’d recommend he stays in bed for a few days. But he’s stable.”

Magnus vaguely registers the sighs of relief that sound like a chorus around the room, though he didn’t hear much after the words ‘he’s going to be fine’ left her lips. The vise around his heart loosens minutely at the assurance. Even if it’s just for the time being.

“And he’s asking for you.”

The hesitation battles with desperation, forcing him to take a pause. His need to see Alec, not bloodied and dying is strong, though the answers he’s going to have to provide are not ones he’s sure he’ll be able to tackle. At least not tonight.

Cat watches as pain wracks through him, and her heart aches for his loss. She can’t imagine what he must be feeling, and has no words to comfort the fresh wound inflicted by the monster who calls himself a father.

She reaches for him, eyes wet with tears for his broken soul, and crushes him in a hug, as if her arms alone might be able to keep him from crumbling to pieces. After a long moment, he tentatively wraps his arms around her, ducking his head into her shoulder, a quiet sob threatening to bring him to his knees. He might fall if she wasn’t holding on so tightly.

“I’m sorry,” she speaks with care, voice muffled against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry Magnus.”  
He clings to her like a lifeline. His heart hammering in his chest with all the anger and pain that today has brought. His father’s heartless demand took more of himself than he thought possible.

He doesn’t even feel like the same person. His skin feels like it belongs to someone else. His body feels lifeless, as if someone has pulled the plug on his power source. He can’t feel the ley lines buzzing beneath his feet. His forever anchor. He can’t feel anything.

“Thank you,” He sobs, sure she must not be able to breathe the way he clings to her.

“Of course,” She whispers, smoothing a hand over his shoulders and back.

It’s her who pulls away first, realizing that he might never let go if she doesn’t. “Go see him.” the kind encouragement soothes him slightly. It isn’t until she steps back that he realizes the small waiting area has emptied.

“Go,” She smiles a smile that doesn’t touch her eyes, and he nods, taking a moment before slipping past her.

Maryse is perched on the side of the small hospital bed. Izzy and Luke close by as Magnus enters slowly, heart pounding too hard in his chest, beating up his ribs from the inside. Alec is propped up with pillows, listening to the sweet coos of his mother as she holds one of his hands in both of hers.

It’s intimate and quiet. Magnus pauses, unsure if he wants to interrupt such a pure moment between mother and son.

Until Alec’s eyes slip past Maryse, and find Magnus, standing in the doorway.

As rough as Magnus must look, with his jacket long discarded, a few buttons missing from his vest, and Alec’s blood still staining the front of his shirt and up his sleeves, Alec looks at him as if he’s seeing the sun for the first time. Alec’s chest rises and falls with shallow gulps of air, a faded grey shirt that looks about two sizes too big covers the evidence of the puncture wound that nearly ended his life not five hours earlier.

“Hey,” the wounded hunter whispers, eyes taking in the weary man in front of him now, looking beyond exhausted, blood stained hands and eyes red and glassy, as if his body is here but his mind is elsewhere.

“Hey,” Magnus responds, voice breaking on the syllable.

Maryse gives Alec’s hand one more squeeze before setting it back on the bed and going to stand by Luke.

He’s alive. He’s safe. He’s healed.

It only takes Magnus a three long strides to cross the room, only another moment before his shaking hands find Alec, and another for Alec to sit up all the way, pulling Magnus into a bone crushing vise, burying his face in Magnus’s neck and sobbing quietly into warm skin. Magnus closes his eyes, fresh tears burning his eyes and falling off his eyelashes onto Alec’s shoulder.

“You came back,” Alec murmurs into Magnus neck, voice full of relief.

“I said I would,” Magnus replies weakly, his own heart singing with the sheer joy of being able to hold Alec in his arms, feel the young man’s pulse against his cheek. He takes comfort in the warmth of his skin and the heavy breaths that burst down his collar bone.

Alec’s fingers curl into Magnus’s shoulders, pulling him back just enough to press his lips to his loves, through gasps of air and clinging hands, they taste each other’s tears and share each other’s breath, basking in the alleviation that the reunion brings.

“I thought I lost you,” Magnus’s hands smooth through Alec’s hair and down his jaw, taking in each feature as if he’s trying to commit it to memory.

Alec swallows and nods in silent agreement. Both of them having spent the last twenty-four hours unsure if they might see each other again.

“You did it,” Alec presses his forehead against Magnus’s, wonder taking over his face, “You did it. You saved him.”

Magnus’s mouth goes dry. The admiration on Alec’s face causing the tightness in his stomach to return, and he’s sure he might be sick again. Alec registers the change, the tension in his love’s touch, usually so soft and giving.

Alec’s memory is foggy, but he definitely remembers Magnus being there. He remembers a large blast of magic that shook the ground under him. He remembers Jace and Magnus hovering above him. Jace had begged Magnus to fix him. To help him. Magnus had cried, he’d held Alec’s hand, he’d told him to hold on. But he didn’t touch him. The arrow remained in his chest, the pain had radiated through his body, with no relief.

Alec is staring back at Magnus, concern creasing his brow, hands on Magnus’s neck turn to stone as he tries to understand.

“What happened?” He breathes, searching Magnus’s expression for any possible hint to the truth that he’s holding back.

Magnus reaches up, removing Alec’s hands from his neck and presses a kiss to his palms before holding them gingerly in his, as if they’re precious and fragile. Only to be handled with the most caring touch.

“Tell me,” Alec begs, trying to meet Magnus’s gaze, though Magnus won’t look up from their joined hands in Alec’s lap.

“Lilith is gone,” it’s a start at lease. Better to lead with good news. “Simon banished her. Clary was caught up in the blast. Izzy used a tracking rune and it seems she’s still alive. Jace and Simon are searching the perimeter. Dorothea will help us with warlock tracking, try and make a better connection.”

Alec’s expression does not soften. The confusion still clouding his eyes, he shakes his head.

“I don’t understand.”

Magnus swallows, taking a deep breath before looking back up into his love’s eyes. “Jace is fine. Lilith released him when she was banished. He’s safe.”

“Magnus.” Alec cuts him off, hands gripping his with the only strength he can muster.

Magnus opens his mouth, at a loss for what to say to try and explain. To try and tell him the truth.

“My father gave me the power to free Jace. To save you.” he’d expected fresh tears, but his eyes are dry. The numbness has returned as the adrenaline in his veins dulls. “But he gave me a choice. He is a selfish man, and he does nothing without receiving a generous payment. And his prices are…” he shakes his head, closing his eyes to the fresh memory of watching his own magic bleed like liquid gold from his fingertips. Painfully pulled from his body through each pore, his father drinking it in, getting drunk off it like wine.

“He told me he wanted me to stay in Edom, and rule by his side.” Horror crosses like lightning past Alec’s features, but Magnus quickly continues, “Of course I said no. It’s a life I could never bring myself back to. Not something I’d ever want to experience again.” A long quiet pause before he continues, sorrow in his words as he tells his love, “I did however, accept his second price.”

Alec narrows his eyes, trying to read his boyfriend in this moment, but he’s a closed book. Looking over at his mother and Luke, then to Izzy, they all wear the same anguished expression.

“Please tell me,” Alec presses up on the mattress, hand going to Magnus’s face, his thumb ghosting over his cheekbone. “What did you do?” Silence. “Magnus, what did you do?”

Magnus’s tongue touches his bottom lip, he blinks slowly, as if saying the words out loud physically pains him. As if it makes it more real, the horror of it all, if he says it out loud.

“My magic.”

The confusion remains for another moment while the words sink in. Alec’s foggy mind sorting through all the clues pointing to this exact fact. The pieces of the puzzle sink devastatingly into place, and Alec feels the blood drain from his face.

“No.”

“Alec,” Alec’s hand slips from Magnus’s face as if he’s lost the strength to keep it there.

“Magnus you can’t,” Shock and dread fill Alec until he feels nothing else, he sits up farther, even though his entire body protests against it, his hands scrambling against the bed sheets as he tries desperately the grasp the words Magnus is saying.

“It’s done.” Magnus takes both of Alec’s hands in his once again, squeezing tightly, trying to ground his love. Seeing the panic in Alec’s face wrecks him and all he wants to do is soothe him, tell him everything is going to be alright, even if it isn’t.

“How could he-- why did you--” None of his sentences have endings. They’re merely words pouring out in a jumble of panic and fear. The others in the room bow out quietly at Luke’s gentle suggestion, leaving the two of them in each other’s comfort.

“You’re safe. That’s all that matters.” Magnus feels the terror of that untruth trying to claw its way to the surface, but he smothers it with the only strength he has left. The repercussions of his sacrifice have not yet settled in. All that matters in this moment is this. The two of them together.

“Clary…”

“Don’t think about that now. You need to rest.”

“How can I?” tears are falling down his hunter’s face, as he struggles to get a proper breath into his lungs.

“Come here,” Magnus pulls Alec back in. Alec clutches to his love’s arms, face pressed to Magnus’s chest, his aching body releasing each emotion built up from the last weeks events, breaking him in half, wracking him with sobs that he doesn’t try to stop.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps into Magnus’s blood stained shirt, “I’m so sorry.”

“Shhh,” Magnus lowers his head, pressing his lips to Alec’s mess of hair, “We’re okay. It’s going to be okay. You’re okay. We’re okay…”

He says it again and again, willing it to be true. When the position becomes too painful for Alec’s broken body, Magnus helps him settle back into the pillows, though Alec doesn’t allow any space between them. Magnus has to convince him to let go long enough for him to slip off his shoes and pull off what’s left of his vest.

Alec scoots over, leaving a sliver of space in the small bed for Magnus to settle next to him. Once he’s slipped under the thin blankets, Alec wraps a protective arm around Magnus’s middle, pulling him closer, even though there is no closer.

Deliria takes over then, wrapping them both in a false sense of security, a cocoon of warmth that neither is willing to break. No words are exchanged, only a few times Alec tilts his head up, nudging Magnus’s jaw with his nose, hinting for Mangus to kiss him. And he does. Every time.

Magnus feels hollow. Lying in his lover’s arms, finally safe enough to think. To truly absorb the weight of what he’s done, what he’s given up. The dread threatens to crush him. Like an elephant on his chest, making it impossible to think of anything else.

He doesn’t sleep. Neither does Alec. They merely lay in the small bed in the infirmary, in the New York institute, until exhaustion inevitably pulls them into restless slumber full of hellish nightmares of fire, and loss, and pain.

***

“Knock knock.”

The sound of Isabelle at the door drags Magnus through the last layers of consciousness. There is a kink in his neck that aches the moment he tries to move, and he groans. He’s pressed to Alec, the two a tangled mess of limbs and cheap sheets that cling and twist. Magnus lifts his head from Alec’s chest and finds the young hunter already awake. He offers his love the weakest of smiles that Alec can’t bring himself to return. He doesn’t look like he slept a wink.

“Sorry. I know it’s early.” She apologizes, pushing the door open with her booted foot as she’s dragging a tray on wheels into the room. Magnus frowns, pressing his hands to his face and realizing his makeup is still on. His eyes hurt and his skin feels clammy and angry. He stops himself, hand lifted, thumb and middle finger pressed together in preparation to erase the offending products.

The nightmare of yesterday's event come screaming back to him in one overwhelming swoop, nearly knocking the wind out of him. He drops his hand back to the bed.

“I thought you should both eat something.”

She rolls the tray up beside them. It’s eggs and toast and black coffee and a few apples.

“It’s nothing fancy, but I want you to eat it all. You know how hard it was to convince them to let me bring you breakfast for two? Really hard. They say it’s frowned upon to have overnight visitors.” She raises a brow at Alec and he shrugs one shoulder, unapologetic. Izzy smiles a sad smile and moves her gaze to Magnus, who seems just about comatose this morning, hardly having acknowledged her presence.

“Thanks Iz,” Alec sits up a little straighter, bones cracking as he does.

Izzy nods, pressing her lips into a line.

“I also wanted to tell you I’m leaving. Catarina has found a track on Clary. Seems she tried to portal out and got stuck in limbo after the blast. Jace, Simon and I are working with her to find out where exactly that is.”

“I should come.” Alec glances around the room, trying to locate his belongings. His phone is charging on the wall, but his clothes and bow and quiver are nowhere in sight.

“Oh no you don’t. Cat is working at the hospital tonight, she’s taking care of the possessed mundanes. They’re all completely malnourished and dehydrated. Dorothea says you’re not to leave this room until she comes to see you herself. She’ll be by tonight to check on you.”

Alec sighs, defeated, but also not willing to argue. Not with the way he feels right now.

Izzy’s eyes stray back to Magnus, this time catching his eyes. There is so much sadness there, he looks much older than he has in a long time.

“Have something to eat. Try and get more sleep both of you.”

“Thanks,” Alec mumbles as he scrubs his hands over his face. Magnus offers her a tight yet grateful smile as she exits, closing the door behind her.

A long silence fills the air.

“Yeah if we don’t eat she’s going to get mad at us.” Alec says, staring at the tray of breakfast food. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until the smell of food filled the room and his stomach started groaning in protest.

Magnus must agree, because he reaches for one of the plates and hands it to Alec, before grabbing the other for himself.

The two settle into a semi-comfortable silence while they eat the plain food prepared by the institutes medical staff. Magnus finishes first, setting the plate back on the tray and pushing the blankets off his legs. He has the icky feeling of sleeping in his clothes. All rumpled and overheated with an edge of nausea that he can’t seem to shake. When he stands he wobbles and Alec sticks a hand out to steady him.

“I’m good,” Magnus assures half-heartedly. “I just really need a shower.”

Alec nods, swallowing his bite of toast. He looks like he has something to say, but when Magnus waits, he doesn’t speak up. He only points in the direction of the connecting bathroom.

The bathroom is even more pitiful than the main area. A tiny sink with no counter space, a toilet that seems smaller than standard, and a shower, standing room only, space for one.

Luckily there is no mirror, so he doesn’t have to see what a wreck he is. Instead he quickly strips off his ruined clothes, piling them on the floor, wishing there was a blow torch somewhere nearby. He’s tired of seeing Alec’s blood, dark and dried to the material. Next he removes every piece of jewelry, placing it all on the sink next to the bottle of generic soap with no label.

He pulls back the shitty curtain and starts the water, praying for warmth, at least for a few minutes.

When steam starts to fill the tiny space, he ducks under the spray and relishes as it hits his skin, hot and harsh. He scrubs his hands over his face until he no longer sees streaks of black on his palms. He breaks into the hotel looking shampoo and scrubs it into his hair until it’s soft and flat and product-free.

His nerves are fried and his skin is sensitive, but he doesn’t stop scrubbing until he finally feels close to normal once again.

It only takes a few minutes for the water to cool and goosebumps to raise on Magnus’s skin. He shuts off the tap and pushes back the curtain, only to reveal the tiny and unequipped bathroom with bare shelves and empty cupboards beneath the sink.

Magnus can feel another panic attack coming on. It creeps up his spine and tightens like a snake around his chest. He closes his eyes and braces his hands on the sink, shivering from the cold air and lack of towel.

He can’t put those closed back on. He can’t even look at them.

“Alexander?” he calls out, quiet enough that if Alec were sleeping it wouldn’t wake him. Worse comes to worse he walks out there and crosses his fingers that no one comes in while he scrounges around for something to wear.

After a moment of silence, a muffled reply, “Yeah?”

“Can you come here a minute?”

He feels guilty when he hears Alec shuffling around, untangling himself from the bedding and padding over the bathroom. He’s supposed to be resting asshole.

The door slides open an inch, letting a little natural light into the airplane bathroom feeling space, Alec registers the tightness of Magnus jaw, knuckles white as he grips the porcelain sink, eyes screwed shut and breath shallow. He slides the door open the rest of the way, worry for his beloved washing over him for the hundredth time.

“Hey,” Alec reaches for him, placing hands on his arm, his shoulder, his neck, touching him gently where the tension pulls hard at his body. “You’re fine, c’mere,” he gently pries Magnus’s fingers from the sink and pulls him to his chest. Magnus’s hands brace on Alec’s hips as he releases a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“What, what is it?” Alec murmurs into Magnus’s wet hair.

Magnus wraps his arms around Alec’s waist, trying not to cry again. He feels silly for getting emotional over such a menial thing.

“There’s no towel.” Magnus says into Alec’s chest.

Alec pauses, letting his heart rate return to normal. He doesn’t smile, because it’s not funny. But relief floods him to his toes now that he knows that Magnus isn’t in any physical danger, or worse. 

“That’s okay.” Alec runs calming hands down Magnus’s back, goosebump-sensitive skin pulled tight under his touch.  
“It happens.”

Magnus wants to say that it doesn’t. Not to him. That this tiny thing is just the beginning of a slippery slope. He’s never had to live without his magic. It feels like he’s missing half of himself. He’s never felt so helpless. So empty. He wants to scream, throw his fist into a wall and curse his father to the deepest depths.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he nods, his head bumping Alec’s chin.

“I’ll be right back.” Alec pulls away, his entire front wet from where Magnus was clinging to him. Alec ducks back out of the bathroom, disappearing around the corner, reappearing moments later with a crisp white towel in his hands.

“Thank you,” Magnus has never felt more pathetic.

“Don’t mention it,” Alec’s mouth tilts in an awkward smile as he shakes out the towel and hands it over. He wants to lean in. There are a few beads of water falling down his neck that Alec desperately wants to kiss away.

He doesn’t.

He leaves Magnus then, though the door remains open as he disappears around the corner to the sparing closet stocked with the essentials for an overnight hospital stay. He rummages through the drawer, finding a pair of grey hospital clothes that match his own, boxy like scrubs, but they’re soft and clean.

Magnus wanders out of the bathroom, the towel around his waist and his long hair dripping. It’s not fair how distracting he can still be for Alec, even in dark times like these. He looks so much younger than he did before. His bare face and sloped shoulders making him look soft and vulnerable. It’s heartbreaking and beautiful and all the things in between.

“Here,” Alec straightens, holding the clothes out to his beloved, still covered in goosebumps.

“Thank you,” Magnus accepts the offer, running a hand over the grey uniform. He’d seen many of these, but never worn a pair himself. He was always the one doing the healing.

Alec nods before wandering back towards the bed. Magnus drops the towel, dresses quickly in the over-sized, shapeless hospital garments. They’re warmer than he’d expected, which is a nice surprise.

“What’re you doing?” Magnus cocks his head at his boyfriend who is pulling at the sheets and yanking pillows out of pillow cases.

“I thought I would change these.”

“Why?”

Alec pauses, looking down at the bed. “There’s blood on them.”

Magnus frowns, coming up behind Alec and wrapping his arms around the taller man’s middle. He presses his face between Alec’s shoulder blades, breathing in the smell of his boyfriend, letting himself take comfort in it. He doesn’t want to see.

“Yours or mine?” He whispers against the young hunters spine, not sure he wants to know.

Alec seems to actually consider the question before responding with a genuine, “I’m not sure.”

Magnus asks Alec to direct him towards clean sheets, and they spend the next few minutes remaking the small bed with crisp sheets, creased with lines from when they came from the drier and were folded tightly, ready for the next patient.

“Is that a television?” Magnus asks as he settles back on the bed, nodding incredulously to the small, somewhat outdated TV in the corner of the room.

Alec smiles unexpectedly wide, eyes lighting up a little more than they have in the last week. “Yeah. You can thank Jace for that.” When Magnus raises an eyebrow, Alec explains. “Growing up Jace was extremely reckless. Which meant he spent a lot of his time in these rooms, healing from broken bones and cuts from the real swords he wasn’t supposed to be using for training.”

“I see,” Magnus smiles, enjoying the lighthearted tone in which Alec can speak about the past. It creates this calm that Magnus doesn’t want to lose. “So the TVs were for him?”

Alec nods, “He had to fight with my parents for ages. Eventually I think they just got tired of him asking. They don’t get used much, but I think there might be a few DVDs lying around here somewhere.”

“I can--”

“Stay,” Alec holds up his hand, pleading in his eyes. “I’ll do it.”

There are exactly three movies collecting dust on the shelf next to the tired looking TV. Fast and the Furious 3 and 4, and The Breakfast Club. Alec hasn’t seen any, and Magnus has seen them all. He gives Alec a quick summary, and before he’s able to finish Alec is putting The Breakfast Club into the player and joining Magnus on the bed.

Magnus arranges himself and Alec until Alec’s back and shoulder are leaning into his chest, their long legs tangling together in their matching hospital uniforms, too short on Alec, a little long on Magnus. The volume is low, and neither gives it their full attention. Alec busies himself with Magnus. He examining the chipped polish on his fingernails and traces the prominent veins of his forearms.

Magnus keeps his eyes on the screen, hoping to be absorbed enough into the story that he can be distracted for at least a few hours, or maybe fall back to sleep.

Neither happens.

Alec’s tracing fingers tickle his arms and warm his chilled skin. Alec’s head on his shoulder is a comfortable weight that continues to draw his attention with each minute move the young man makes. It’s a sweet relief that comes with the distraction, and before the movie finishes Magnus’s lips are scattering kisses down Alec’s neck.

It takes no time at all. Both of them so desperate for an escape into each other that all reason becomes relevant as Magnus pushes Alec into the mattress, Alec tugging restlessly at Magnus’s clothing, trying to get to skin.  
It’s the purest of distractions. It’s the closest they’ve been in ages. With everything going on, finding a moment to be together has been next to impossible. Their clumsy hands seek to find relief in each other as they settle into a glorious rhythm of comfort and lust that removes them from reality, at least for a little while.

Alec’s still healing body flinches and reacts, while Magnus’s fingers are quick to stroke the hurt, whispering sweet words of encouragement as he lets Alec move at his own pace. Magnus’s usual seamless grace is thrown off with his mind in a bundle of disarray and his body trying to find its new balance. But it’s sweet, and loving, and leaves them both a mess of nerves and burning lungs. For a little while, nothing seems to matters except the two of them. They absorb each other’s pain, and give each other all the joy and peace they’re capable of.

Later, when the afternoon sun filters through the open window, another gentle knock sounds at the door, interrupting a quiet exchange recounting Magnus’s encounter with Asmodeus. Alec had wanted to hear it, but is having a hard time learning the details. He keeps squeezing Magnus’s hand when he describes the especially brutal parts.

“Come in,” Alec says to the closed door, straightening from where’s he’s practically draped himself across Magnus, expecting either his sister or mother, or even Dot to appear. Instead, Underhill pears into the room, looking guilty as anything.

“I’m sorry Sir,” He starts, glancing at Magnus, offering him a nod and a kind yet timid smile.

“Oh,” Alec sits up all the way, feeling like a disheveled mess, glad at least that they’d showered and put their hospital clothes back on. Hopefully not looking too wild and unkept in front of his subordinate. “Yeah, um, no problem. You don’t have to call me…” Alec looks down at Underhill’s hands and the small stack of paperwork he’s holding. “Those for me?”

“Yes,” Underhill looks down, giving Alec and Magnus an apologetic glance. “They’re orders for missions. No one will do anything until they get a signature. Not after what’s happened with inquisitor Herondale in Alicante. Jace is your second in command but he’s hasn’t been back...”

Alec nods, understanding, “I see.”

“I can come back.”

“No that’s not necessary.” He holds out his hand and Underhill moves further into the room, handing over the papers and a pen. “I’ll just do these quick and you can take them, if that’s alright. I don’t want to hold anyone up more than I already have.”

“That’s just fine,” Underhill nods, placing his hands behind his back and assuming a soldier's stance.

Alec ducks his head and glances over the missions, skimming the details and begins scribbling his signature across the pages that require it.

Underhill waits. He can feel Magnus’s eyes on him. They’re not unkind, only curious.

“Hello,” Magnus greets, tilting his head at the young soldier, and Underhill relaxes a little at the casual greeting.

“Mr. Bane,” Underhill smiles.

“Oh please,” Magnus shakes his head, “That’s certainly not necessary. I’m hardly your superior...” The edge of sadness that won't leave his usually flawless tone makes the sentence more strained than he means it. Underhill’s eyes tighten and Alec pauses for a half second, messing up his signature.

“Besides, you seem to be a friend of Alec’s, so I’m sure first names will do.” Magnus lifts his hand, reaching across Alec’s side of the bed in an offered handshake. “Magnus, please.”

Underhill smiles, shaking Magnus’s hand firmly. “Benjamin Underhill. People I like call me Ben.”

“Benjamin it is then,” Magnus teases gently and Underhill chuckles.

“Done, I think.” Alec says, flipping through the papers, making sure he didn’t miss anything.

“Thank you,” Underhill takes the stack back from Alec, “And again I’m sorry to bother you. It won’t happen again.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not a complete cripple. Please let me know if there are any other orders that come through. In the meantime, do you have your tablet with you?”

“I do,” Underhill tucks the papers under his arm and produces his tablet, handing it over to Alec without question.

Alec takes it, placing his thumb on the scanner, his print set to open any piece of equipment in the institute. He types in his code and touches a few more buttons before handing it back.

“About time you had a bit more jurisdiction around here. I’ve enabled the weapons room and training center to your name. I hope it’s not too much to ask that you take on a few more responsibilities, at least while the dust settles.”

Underhill’s eyebrows raise and his looks down at his tablet a little bashfully.

“Consider it a promotion.” Alec shrugs, obviously trying not to make a big deal about it. Magnus smiles as he watches his love, doing what he does best. Leading people, making them into the strong and confident soldiers they are. It makes Magnus’s heart ache and he reaches over, scratching his nails gently across Alec’s spine, silently showing his support.

“Thank you.”

“Sure,” Alec nods, feeling awkward. Luckily Underhill doesn’t let him suffer long.

“I’ll leave you to rest, and try not to bother you again.” Underhill backs out of the room. “It was nice finally meeting you.” He directs this at Magnus and Magnus smiles.

“Likewise.”

They stay quiet until the door is closed and the footsteps are disappearing down the hall.

“That was kind of you.” Magnus leans over, resting his chin on Alec’s shoulder.

“It was a little selfish. I just want to sleep, and eat, and lay here with you. Work is the last thing on the my mind. I hope he doesn’t think I was just trying to get rid of him.”

“He seemed flattered.” Magnus assures, trailing a hand up Alec’s arm, squeezing his bicep, drawing his loves attention.  
“He seems like a nice person. Good friend.”

Alec smiles in agreement, “I think he is.”


End file.
